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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27260515">The Good One</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_deep_magic/pseuds/the_deep_magic'>the_deep_magic</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>A Very Critical Role Kinktober 2020 [25]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Critical Role (Web Series)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bondage, Character Study, Dubious Consent, F/M, Fantasizing, Guilt, Humiliation, Kinktober 2020, Masturbation, Sexual Fantasy, Size Difference, Size Kink, Spreader Bars, Unrequited Lust</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 01:29:19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,508</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27260515</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_deep_magic/pseuds/the_deep_magic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Day Twenty-Five: bondage</p><p>It’s hard to be the good one.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Percival "Percy" Fredrickstein Von Musel Klossowski de Rolo III/Pike Trickfoot</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>A Very Critical Role Kinktober 2020 [25]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1950748</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>81</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Good One</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Takes place round about the year-long break, so vague spoilers up until C1E95. The dubcon, humiliation, etc., is part of a "dirty-bad-wrong" fantasy – check the end notes for more info. One day I want to write something sweet for these two, but it is not this day!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It’s hard to be the good one.</p><p>Not that Pike really thinks of herself as “good” – she serves the goddess of second chances for a reason – but there are certain things that the world expects of a cleric. That her friends expect of a cleric.</p><p>Oh, they don’t say it in so many words, but she feels it nonetheless. When someone lets loose with a particularly blasphemous swear, or when they go a little too far in an interrogation, or when the plan goes to hell and someone winds up dead. Even if they don’t seek her out afterwards, they cut their eyes guiltily toward her in the moment. Sometimes she wants to tell them that it’s alright, that she’s not in any position to judge them, that Sarenrae is all about redemption, and that’s ultimately what they’re all working toward, each in their own way.</p><p>Other times, she just wants to fucking scream.</p><p>It doesn’t last long, usually, and there are nearly always more pressing matters at hand. She genuinely loves healing, especially when it’s her friends, so any time she feels the Everlight flowing through her, she knows it’s all worth it.</p><p>And it’s even useful sometimes, her image as a cleric, as The Good One of the group. Keyleth’s more likely to argue if she thinks they’re all headed down the wrong path, but Pike has found it’s more effective to exert her influence in other ways. She knows she’s saved lives with a well-timed glare in Grog’s direction.</p><p>Still, there’s what her friends think of her, and then there’s the reality. They forget she’d been a sailor, and that she’d blended right in with the rough company on the <em>Broken Howl</em>. They forget she was the first of them to die, to be flung violently into oblivion and yanked back. They don’t know the things she saw walking among the wounded after the Conclave’s initial attack, the horrifying things that flame and acid and ice had done to flesh.</p><p>They don’t know she fantasizes about fucking her friend’s partner. That she’s been in love with Percy for years, before Vex thought twice about him.</p><p>It just took Pike too long to say the words. No, that’s not right – she never actually managed to <em>say</em> the words. She tries to be forgiving with herself, but the truth of the matter is that she’s a coward. She never told Percy how she felt about him because she was afraid he’d reject her, and now it’s too late. She doesn’t blame Vex for getting to him first, though, and she tries not to blame Percy for never seeing what she thought she was doing a poor job of hiding, because things are what they are. She really does want the best for both Percy and Vex. But she can’t just turn off her attraction to Percy, even if it’s clear she can never act on it. Pike allows herself to be jealous from time to time, but that’s as far as she’ll go.</p><p>Except when she’s alone. She’s firmly of the belief that what’s in her head doesn’t count, as long as she never breathes a word of it to anyone, and there’s little chance of that happening. In her head, it doesn’t have to make sense or take everyone’s feelings into account; it just has to get her off.</p><p>Today was a long, frustrating day at the Slayer’s Cake, with Vex fucking off to run around in the woods with Trinket and Tary getting in her way at every possible opportunity, and as much as she loves both of them, she’s frustrated and just wants some time alone. Vox Machina is scattered to the four winds at the moment, so it’s easy enough to grab some dinner from the Whitestone kitchens on her own and retire early. She soaks in the bath for a while, but it never feels private enough in there for anything more than a quick wank.</p><p>No, for what she really wants, she needs time and a bed and a locked door. Not that what she has planned is elaborate – just her hands and a small toy – but it involves the kind of fantasy that feels wrong outside her own room. She strips off her robe and burrows under the covers, the better to hide even further from the real world.</p><p>In her head, she’s tied up.</p><p>The specifics of it are unimportant. Sometimes it’s manacles, cold metal clamped around her wrists and ankles. Other times it’s rope, burning rough against her skin as she struggles. Tonight, it’s fine leather straps – she wants the luxury of buttery soft leather, the kind that probably can’t even be found anymore in the ruined cities of Tal’Dorei, the kind that she’d never waste so much money on.</p><p>Pike has no idea if this is something she’d actually enjoy in real life. Oh, she’s had lovers who liked to play around with strips of silk, but she never would have dreamed of letting them actually immobilize her. Not like this, not like Percy does to her in her head. No mystery there – if she’s tied up, if she can’t help but submit to his advances, then she can’t be blamed for wanting them. Again, the specifics are irrelevant; if she tries to really set the scene, to figure out the whys and hows and work herself up to it, the shame hits her too hard and she abandons the whole exercise.</p><p>So it has to be like this: she’s tied up, leather straps winding around her body. Not to a bed, nothing so prosaic this time. She wants to be upright, so maybe a column. A stone column, just a little larger around than her hands could reach while tied behind her back, so there’s a few inches separating her wrists. There are straps around her body, above and below her breasts, and a wide, thick strap at her waist. Her ankles are tied— No, not quite right. They’re restrained, but with a metal bar holding them apart. Since she gets to choose the details, the cuffs around her ankles are still soft leather, but the bar between them is unyielding iron.</p><p>Back in her bed, she has only the sheets to feel against her naked body, but they’re made of such wonderfully soft fabric. The covers were pulled back before she got in, so the sheets are still cool enough to make her nipples tighten when she rubs against them. She doesn’t touch herself just yet – best not to get ahead of herself.</p><p>Because Percy’s just shown up, utterly unruffled and clothed in his usual finery, whereas she’s naked save for the leather straps. It’s an extra layer of vulnerability, particularly as she can’t hide anything. He looks her over with an appraising eye and scoffs.</p><p>(The real Percy, of course, would do no such thing. He would free her immediately and make sure she was unharmed and put his own coat around her shoulders. But here, in her head, he’s as cruel as she wants him to be. To imagine him as sweet, as loving, as fawning over her and her body – that feels too close to infidelity.)</p><p>He says… something. Much as she loves his voice, she’s not good at making up dialogue for him. It sounds stilted in her head in a way that he never is. But she can summon up the sight of one of his wickedest smiles, the kind that ought to be accompanied by a whiff of black smoke, and that’s what makes her finally break down and cup her own pussy, feeling herself start to get wet as the fantasy takes hold.</p><p>Percy notices it, too, of course, after dropping to his knees to put himself at her level. Gods, he can probably smell her as he gets close, though he doesn’t touch her there yet. Instead, his big, pale hands circle her waist, right above the thickest strap. Realistically, she doesn’t know if he can fit his hands all the way around her, but gods, his hands are so big, and his fingers are so lovely and long. They squeeze her tighter than the straps, the calluses rough against her skin.</p><p>(The thought of his hands forces her own into action, spreading her slick up to her clit. She goes slow to start, but the frustration of the day already has her a little on edge, wanting harder stimulation than usual, so she doesn’t deny herself.)</p><p>Not the way Percy does, kneading and pinching at her breasts without much regard for her comfort. She’s so small in his hands, and he doesn’t fail to notice, of course. He even laughs a little, making her squirm in her bonds, but of course, there’s nowhere to go. She just has to submit to his caresses.</p><p>She needs more, soon, so then Percy’s hands are around her legs, thumbs rubbing roughly against her soft inner thighs. He says words Percy would never, ever say, leaning into her ear to whisper, “Tell, me, Pike, is your pussy as small as the rest of you?” He doesn’t wait to hear the answer before a probing finger presses between her legs. Even such a nimble finger as his feels large and blunt against her, rubbing against her clit almost by accident as he surveys the territory. “One finger’s going to be a tight fit, isn’t it?”</p><p>And then it starts <em>working</em> against her, big as a gnomish dick but clever and precise enough to slink its way in. Luckily, she’s wet enough that she can take him to the first knuckle easily. When he starts to wiggle his way deeper, the pressure inside her (she imagines) is maddening, and he only makes it in to the second knuckle until he’s as deep as he can get. Her pussy spasms helplessly around his finger, especially when he crooks it and puts pressure against her front wall. It’s too big to hit her sweet spot just right, giving her little more than a dull feeling of fullness, but she’s still wet enough to drip down his knuckles.</p><p>(Back in bed, the toy she slides into herself is relatively small, no bigger than two of her own fingers and much more maneuverable. The size thing is so, so much hotter in her head than in real life.)</p><p>The girth of two of his fingers hurts a little, but she doesn’t give him the satisfaction of crying out, either in pain or pleasure. She’s not sure which it is, to be honest, but it’s hard to care when she’s feeling this much. And he looks reluctantly impressed, staring at where the tips of his fingers disappear inside of her. Then he surprises her by going back to one finger, and she’s stretched well enough that he can fuck her with a little more dexterity now, the sound of it squelching wet. His other hand rests on her waist, big enough against her small body that he can rest his fingers on her hipbone and easily reach her clit with his thumb, stroking it along with his thrusts.</p><p>(She rolls over and gets her knees under her until she’s half-riding the toy, grinding against the heel of her hand.)</p><p>He takes the spreader bar off her ankles, but only because he needs to spread them wider. Her legs are around his hips now, but he’s not holding her weight – the straps are doing that, at the right height for him to be on his knees. His cock, when he takes it out of his finely-made trousers, looks almost indecently large to her, as thick around as her own fist and flushed red at the tip. Her pussy clenches around nothing at the sight.</p><p>Two fingers was nothing compared to this. The head is so big that he has to work it inside her in increments, even as she spreads her legs so far they ache. His breath is heaving by the time the tip sinks inside her, and the pressure of it seems to radiate up into her chest. She’s not sure she can take a full breath with him inside, and it makes her eyes roll back into her head. His first thrust, if it can even be called that, rams up against her sweet spot with the force of a charging goliath, and when she looks down, she swears she can see the slightest bulge in her lower belly.</p><p>(If she weren’t so far gone, she’d laugh and be slightly horrified, but <em>gods</em>, the thought of being that full just does something to her. She’s rubbing her clit shamelessly now, ready to come.)</p><p>“It hardly even counts if I can’t get my cock all the way in,” he says with a sneer, and for a sickening moment, she thinks he’s going to try. But it seems he’s just excusing his own bad behavior as he fucks her with the first few inches of his dick. There’s an upward curve to it, a slight thickening in the center, and she nearly chokes with the thought that she hasn’t even got the widest part inside her.</p><p>That’s what sends her over the edge as much as his thumb on her clit, and she’s so full of him that her pussy can barely even tighten as she comes, making her whole body shake instead. But it’s enough to milk the orgasm out of Percy, enough to make that aristocratic veneer crack down the center, and he roars as he comes. Here, in this fantasy, she can feel it, feel him go off inside her and fill her even more.</p><p>Back in the real world, she grunts into the pillow as she hits her peak, wringing a few more spasms out of herself before she has to give her clit a break. When she’s done, she collapses in a sweaty heap, the blankets now more of a source of oppressive heat than a comfort.</p><p>As always, the guilt starts to seep in as she comes back to herself. What is she doing? How can this possibly be healthy? Shouldn’t she just go get laid for real?</p><p>As she kicks the covers off and the cool air hits her skin, she hears the enchanted earring buzz gently where it rests on the night table. When she holds it to her ear, she hears, “Ah, yes, Pike, so sorry to bother you this late, but could you possibly pop down to the shop? Tary’s gone and hammered his thumb again.”</p><p>Percy.</p><p>Of fucking course.</p><p>“Be down in a minute,” she says as cheerily as she can while smacking her palm against her forehead.</p><p>Her fucking <em>life</em>. She loves this family of hers like they’re blood. She wants Percy and Vex to live happily ever after, if that’s what they want. She’d even risk her own life for Tary under the right circumstances. She just can’t seem to resist making it more difficult for herself.</p><p>It’s hard to be the good one.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Pike fantasizes about Percy fucking her while she’s tied up. She imagines him being careless about consent and somewhat mean to her about her size (possibly as a way to feel less guilty for fantasizing about her friend’s husband). There is no actual infidelity.</p><p>And once again, new CR ep = probably no new fic tomorrow, but I’m still set to do all 31 days/prompts!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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